Music to My Ears
by Yurinnii
Summary: Francis Bonnefoy has it all. Popularity, friends, girls: anything he wants, he gets. But when he spots Arthur Kirkland in class one day, he can't seem to get the strange boy out of his mind... and what secret is Arthur hiding? AU, Eventual FrUK.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys, look, I wrote a thing. It was written in the space of a forty minute bus journey, so might be quite bad.**

**This is the kind of thing I come up in Chemistry ****especially when adding soap to water to see if it is hard or soft.**

**I do not own Hetalia OH GOD WHY RUB IT IN WHY DON'T YOU.**

**Anyway, onwards with the story! **

He walked through the crowd, which parted before him. He blew the ladies kisses and sent them winks, which made them fawn over him. Some screamed and a few even fainted. Flicking his long blond hair over his shoulder, the boy cast his blue eyes about the corridor. Everyone was looking. Just what he wanted.

He strode into the classroom, proclaiming his presence by a loud 'bonjour!' All eyes were again on him. People looked up from what they were doing to stare at his face in all its perfection.

Just as he was about to sit down, he noticed something's strange. Someone wasn't looking. The boy had messy blond hair and he was scribbling furiously in a notebook. His face was hidden by his fringe, which flopped over his eyes.

He was furious. He wasn't the centre of attention. All eyes weren't on him. This mistake must be rectified.

"Excusez-moi!" He said. Everyone turned to listen. But still the boy did not look up.

"You, with the blond hair that could clearly do with some conditioner and a good cut! Writing away in your notebook!"

His classmates, seeing he wasn't talking to them, returned to their previous activities. But he wasn't concentrating on them. His eyes were on the boy, who had still not responded. That was it. He would have to resort to physical contact.

He strode over to the boy and tapped on his shoulder. The boy almost jumped out of his skin. His green eyes looked around for a second before settling on him. Yes, this was more like it.

"Can I help you?" The boy asked. His accent was unmistakably British, yet it sounded different to all the British accents he had heard before. His voice sounded strained, almost robotic.

"Yes, you can. I was trying to get your attention for a while now." The Brit was staring at him, watching his mouth move. It was a bit unnerving.

"Oh really?" The boy seemed genuinely shocked and sorry; he could easily read it on his face. "I am ever so sorry. What's was it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

"I did not want to talk to you about anything. I just wanted you to look at my beauty." The boy's large eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, like it was hard for him to hear. When he seemed to process what he had said, his face contorted in anger and he began to shout.

"If that was all you wanted then you could have left me alone! I genuinely thought I had done something wrong, and you had wanted to say something important! Just leave me be!" The boy's voice grew louder and louder, until all conversation had stopped. No one shouted at him.

"But Mon Cher, all eyes must be on me when I enter a room. It is the law."

"I have not heard of this law you speak of! Let me go back to my writing now! It is absolutely ridiculous that all eyes must be on you! Why can't you just be happy with the majority of eyes on you, or even one or two?" The boy was still shouting, and he could now be heard in the corridor. People were popping their heads round the door to see what was going on. The Brit's voice was becoming more and more distorted, and he was beginning to lose his British accent.

He was starting to get worried. People were staring. Normally, this would have been a good thing, but this boy was getting angrier and he was afraid he would hit him soon. After all, he seemed to have no regard for the other laws, so why should he know of the 'no hitting' one?

"Maybe you should stop shouting."

There was a pause before the boy's reply, as with every time before.

"I am not shouting! I am speaking normally!"

Before he could go on, a man burst through the door. He had blond, wavy hair that fell to just above his chin and a curl that curved and fell in front of his purple tinted eyes. He was clutching what appeared to be a toy bear.

He quietly stepped in front of him and into the boy's line of sight. The man put the bear on the floor before pushing both of his hands down. The boy seemed to respond to this as he immediately stopped talking.

The new man made hand motions and the boy nodded before looking downcast at his feet and shuffling out the classroom. The man picked up the bear and spoke to the class in a voice so quiet you had to strain your ears to be heard.

"I'm sorry about Arthur. He sometimes forgets to keep the volume down. If he ever does it again, come find me. I'll be around somewhere, probably in the school office. Go there and ask for Matthew and I'll come running." Matthew smiled sweetly before leaving.

He smiled to himself, taking his usual seat at the back of the class. This 'Arthur' was interesting. Not looking up, shouting at him even? Did Arthur not even know who he was? No, that was impossible. Everyone knew who he was. His friends and he were the kings of the school, with him being the leader of course. But this boy, who didn't even have the excuse of being new, did not bow to him.

He smirked. Arthur would rue the day he ever forgot to look at Francis Bonnefoy.

**A/N: So… what did you think? Good or utter rubbish? As I said, this was written quickly. It is short and a prologue thing I think.**

**Can anyone guess what is up with Arthur? I think it's pretty obvious but anyway.**

**Please tell me if you think I should continue this or not! (AKA R&R)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm back with a new chapter! **

**Whoa, what? Eight reviews, fourteen followers and four favourites with JUST ONE CHAPTER?! I love you all! I hope this chapter is satisfactory! It's a bit longer and from Arthur's point of view.**

**Well done to everyone who guessed right! You'll find out in this chapter what is wrong with him.**

**Oh yeah, Arthur and Francis are sixteen, Matthew is twenty and Alfred is eight (although he doesn't appear in this chapter… sorry)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, it belongs to the lord Hidekaz Himaruya (all hail Himaruya! AMEN!)**

Chapter 2

Arthur ran down the corridor, not caring who or what he crashed into. He was sure that he was being shouted at, but wasn't like he could hear the shouts.

How could he let this happen? He knew that he shouldn't shout. He knew that he couldn't control his voice when he shouted. He couldn't hear if his voice was too loud or too soft. It was hard getting it the perfect volume.

He didn't hear Matthew come up behind him. Arthur did know, however, when the man pulled him back into his chest. The Brit knew there was no point trying to get out of the Canadian's grip. Matt may look weak, but he was by no means that.

Arthur knew he was crying. He could feel the salty tracts as the tears made their way down his face. He was probably sobbing too, although there was no way for him to know that for certain.

Matthew was leading him away from the crowds of people and into an empty classroom. Lessons had started, but that didn't mean that the corridors were empty. The infamous Bad Touch Trio would probably be skiving. Arthur didn't know much about them. He didn't know who they were or what they looked like. All he knew was they were the most popular people and apparently 'drop dead gorgeous'. He had gotten this from the snippets of conversation he had picked up by lip reading.

Matt gestured to a chair and Arthur took it. The man sat down in the one opposite, gently setting down his bear, Kumajirou, into a chair of its own. Arthur knew it was silly for a grown man to carry around a stuffed bear, but he wasn't exactly one to judge. He still had imaginary (to everyone else, that is) friends.

'What happened?' Matthew signed.

The Brit slowly but surely regained his composure. The sobs gradually subsided and the tears stopped falling.

'I was writing,' he began, hands shaking, 'when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was this guy. I thought I had done something wrong, like he was trying to get my attention or something had happened, but he only wanted me to look at him when he entered the room! I got angry and shouted at him. I guess it got out of hand. I'm sorry Matt. I shouldn't have shouted.'

'It's not your fault. Do you know who it was that tapped you on the shoulder?'

'No, but he had long blond hair and blue eyes. Looked like a frog.'

Matthew chuckled; the only signs his body shaking slightly and the smile on his pale face.

'He's not a frog, but you're close enough. He's French.' Arthur grimaced and Matthew laughed before continuing to sign. 'Francis Bonnefoy. I'm surprised you haven't, excuse the expression, heard of him. Most people have on their first day, not their fifth month. He's in the Bad Touch Trio.'

Sometimes, Arthur got jealous of Matthew. His councillor was only partially deaf. People speaking sounded like whispers. Apparently, according to Alfred, his voice was very quiet as all he was used to hearing was whispers. But at least he could hear.

Arthur missed a lot of things. He missed hearing the birds chirping, his parents voices, watching TV without subtitles. But most of all he missed music. He used to play the guitar in a band but had to give up after he went deaf. He couldn't hear if he was playing the right notes, and things quickly got confusing. The other members of the band got annoyed when he messed up, or didn't stop at the right time, or began too early. It wasn't his fault, but they didn't care. They kicked him out and he gave up the guitar. He seemed to be giving up a lot lately.

'Are you alright now?' Although Arthur could lip read and speak, Matthew never spoke to him, choosing to only sign. This was 'to improve his skills'. He was getting pretty good at it too.

'Much better, thanks.'

'How about you miss this lesson and go to the next one.' That's what Arthur liked about Matthew; he was compassionate. 'What is it again?'

'Chemistry. We're being assigned partners today.'

'So you don't want to miss that. Alright, what do you want to do?'

'Can we just talk? I want to practice my signing.'

'Right then. What did you do last weekend?'

They signed about pointless stuff; football, hockey, television, books, romance (Matthew admitted he liked the German Bad Touch Trio member, Gilbert, while Arthur insisted he _did not_ have a crush on anyone). Soon, the conversation turned to a different subject.

'Why don't you tell anyone that you're deaf?'

Arthur hesitated before replying.

'I guess I don't want a repeat of last time. Oh, I forgot to ask. How's Alfred?'

'He's fine.' Matthew's face lit up with the smile that only his little brother could bring. 'He wants to see you.'

'And I want to see him too. Are you free tonight?'

'We are. Alfred keeps asking 'can I see Iggy? When's Iggy coming over?' It's adorable.'

'I bet it is.' Although Arthur frowned at the nickname, he still grinned at the prospect of seeing his only friend.

'I'll pick you up straight after school ends then. Are your parents alright with it?'

'They couldn't care less.' Arthur's hands were vicious, his hands stabbing the air.

The two were interrupted by vibrations making the ground shake. The bell had rung, signalling the end of one lesson and the beginning of another.

'I best go. See you at four?'

'See you at four. Bye Artie.'

'Bye Matt.' the two used the abbreviated forms of their names. It was much easier than finger spelling longish names like theirs.

Arthur left the classroom and was immediately absorbed by the crowd. For once, he was glad he couldn't hear. The noise around him must be unbearable.

The crowd began to part. Arthur frowned. This had never happened before.

Like the parting of the red sea, three teens appeared through the gap. One had slightly curly brown hair, green eyes not unlike Arthur's own and slightly tanned skin. He looked Hispanic.

Another had white hair the colour of snow and playful red eyes. From Matthew's description of him, this must be Gilbert. Arthur could see why the Canadian had fallen for him. The albino had perfect, pale skin and could be a model if he wanted to.

The teen in the centre Arthur recognised. This was the blond he had shouted at. Francis Bonnefoy. Arthur quickly ducked into the side to avoid recognition. Unfortunately for him, he backed straight into a locker. It must have made a loud noise, as all heads turned to face him, including the ones of the Bad Touch Trio.

The blonds eyes widened in recognition. He half turned to face the crowd and said something. After an awkward pause, Arthur realised that Francis must have been addressing him. The Brit had to stop himself from signing a reply before speaking in an undoubtedly shaky voice.

"I'm sorry, could you please repeat the question? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that."

Francis chuckled before turning to face him, fully this time, thank God.

"I said that you must really like attention. That's twice you have diverted it away from me."

"I didn't mean to bang the locker. And I'm sorry for shouting at you. Now can I please get to my lesson?" Arthur made to storm past the Frenchman but was stopped by a pale hand on his shoulder.

Arthur was sure Gilbert must have said something along the lines of 'you're not getting away', as he didn't relinquish his grip.

Francis once again addressed the crowd. People clapped and cheered at what he was suggesting. The Frenchman turned to face the Brit and smirked.

"You will rue the day you ever forgot to look at me, Arthur."

Then Arthur was punched in the face.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::

He eventually dragged his sorry arse to Chemistry. The teacher gasped when she saw his face, which was now sporting a black eye, but said nothing and directed him to his new seat. Thankfully, all the teachers had been told of his… situation, and always faced him when talking. They also gave him notes on what happened in the lesson, which was helpful.

"Arthur, we assigned partners when you were busy doing whatever you were doing. I drew them out of a hat and you were put with Francis."

The Brit slowly turned to the back of the classroom, not wanting to see who would be his partner. But sure enough, the only empty space was next to a familiar blond Frenchman, whose face wore a smile that would no doubt make ladies scream and faint.

Arthur dumped his books on the desk turned to face his partner, not wanting to accidentally ignore him again.

"Welcome Arthur Kirkland. The next few months are going to be fun, non?"

Arthur just put his face on the desk. In the space of a few minutes, Chemistry had become his least favourite lesson.

"This day just keeps getting better and better." He said in what he hoped was a sarcastic tone.

**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!**

**Just a note, this is set in England (because I live there and it's awesome). So we'll be using the English education system. Arthur and Francis will be in year 11, and about to do their GCSEs.**

**Remember to R&R! Next chapter should be up soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello one and all, and welcome to chapter three of Music to My Ears!**

…

**THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! I never thought this would get so much love! I'm probably over-reacting, but I don't care! I love you all!**

**A lot of people have been asking what GCSEs are. Well, they're exams you do when you're in year 11 (fifth and final year) of secondary school (school for 11-16 year olds) and they're qualifications. They help you get jobs and get into university and such. You do about ten or eleven. After them, you can leave and get a job or go to sixth form and do A levels (but I'm not going to go into them because they're not needed and this A/N is way too long already).**

**Disclaimer: Last time I checked, I didn't own hetalia… *Checks pockets and bedroom* Nope, still don't.**

"Speaking"

'Signing'

'_Thoughts'_

_**Text being read off a screen**_

Chapter 3

True to his word, Matthew was waiting just outside the school gates, car keys in hand. As soon as the Canadian saw the state of Arthur's face, he almost dropped his bear, rushed over and started to check the Brit over.

"Oh my goodness! Arthur, what happened?" Matthew said. A look of genuine concern was plastered over his face. Arthur knew that he was actually speaking, going along with the agreement that they spoke in public.

"He did." The Brit gestured to where Francis, Gilbert and, as he had later learned, Antonio were walking down the street. They were laughing, and Arthur wondered for a second what it would be like to have friends, not just a twenty year old Canadian man and his eight year old brother. Friends who would laugh with him, play video games with him, and not treat him any differently just because he was deaf.

He quickly pushed that thought away. There was no need to be thinking like that. It's not like it would ever happen, anyway.

Matthew frowned, facing Arthur full on.

"Tell me what happened."

"I suppose it was payback for earlier." Arthur said, starting towards his councillor's car, a beaten old Vauxhall. "It's no big deal."

"No big deal?" Matthew said, looking for all the world like _it was _a big deal. "Arthur, you've got a black eye!"

"It doesn't hurt." The Brit insisted, getting in the passenger seat and slamming the door. Matthew, knowing the signs, quickly changed the subject.

"Other than being punched, how was school?"

'Alright.' Arthur switched to signing as they drove off. 'My English teacher said my story I've been writing was very good.'

Matthew didn't reply until they reached a red light, when he quickly signed a reply.

'That's great! What's it about?'

'A boy that goes blind after an accident and is shunned by his family and friends.'

Matthew just sighed and continued driving. Arthur liked to vent his feelings and emotions in his writing, and this was no exception. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse.

'_I wonder what is going through that boy's head. He won't tell me anything. He can't keep it all cooped up like this for much longer.'_

The Jones-Williams household was peaceful as the two pulled up onto the drive. It was a medium-sized brick house with a red door and roses growing in the garden.

The family was complicated to see the least. Matthew had been born in Canada, the son of Mrs Madeline Williams and Mr Noah Williams. When Matthew was eight, Noah Williams died in a car crash, leaving Madeline devastated. The grieving family moved to America, where Madeline met David Jones, a rich American businessman. They started dating, got married one year later and three years after that, Alfred was born. They moved to England two years ago because David had been transferred. Alfred had the surname Jones and was American, whereas Matthew kept his mother's original surname of Williams and nationality of Canadian. He still lived with his mother and step-dad because he made little money as Arthur's councillor and so couldn't afford to buy an apartment.

Matthew unlocked the door. No sooner had they taken one step into the hallway when they were assaulted by a red, blue and blond blur.

"Iggy!"

Arthur looked down at the eight year old now attached to his legs.

"Hello Alfred. How are you?"

Alfred made get down motions with his hands. Arthur crouched until they were at eye level.

The little boy began to make hand motions. The movements were shaky, and sometimes wrong, but the end product was the same.

'I am fine thank you Artie. How are you?'

Arthur's smile spread from ear-to-ear. This little boy was learning sign language, so he could communicate with his brother and, Arthur liked to think, friend easier.

"Well done Alfred!" The Brit congratulated the boy, ruffling his sandy blond hair. "You'll be fluent in no time. And for the record, I'm fine except for this blasted black eye."

"How did that happen?" Alfred asked, looking Arthur directly in the eye.

"This silly person got all bothered over a small thing. I didn't know he had gone in the room, and he didn't like that, so he punched me."

Alfred pouted.

"I don't like him. Next time, call for me because I'm the hero!" Arthur and Matthew chuckled.

"Arthur? Is that you?" Mrs Williams came through from the kitchen. Her hands were covered in flour and her blonde hair was tied up in a messy ponytail. Her glasses were falling down her nose slightly.

"Hello Mrs Williams." The teen stood up back to his normal height.

"How many times have I told you, call me Madeline! Now, what happened to your eye?"

"A guy punched me."

"Evidently. Are you staying for tea? I'm making pancakes."

Alfred jumped up in the air and shouted something along the lines of 'YAY PANCAKES!'

"… Be five minutes… in kitchen…" Mrs Williams turned around and returned to the kitchen. Alfred turned back to Arthur and Matthew.

"I made a new friend today!" He announced.

Before Arthur could answer, Matthew beat him too it. He could tell because the Canadian's hand was on his shoulder, something they did when the other was speaking.

"His name's Ivan! He has an older sister and a younger sister, and came from Russia!"

"How did you become friends?" Arthur asked, genuinely curious. Alfred, although being loud and generally likeable, didn't have many friends apart from a small Japanese boy called Kiku and a loud Dane called Mathias.

"I saved him from the bullies! He said they picked on him because he was tall and creepy, but I said he wasn't tall and creepy, and we became friends!"

Arthur sighed. He wished it was that simple for him.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::

Francis lay back on his bed. His headphones were plugged in and he was listening to some good old Daft Punk.

'_Not only are they French, but their music is excellent.'_

His mind wandered back to that boy from this morning. The one that wouldn't look at him. Arthur… Kirkman? Kimble? Kirkland, yes that was it. Arthur Kirkland. Something was up with that boy. He wouldn't look at him when he entered the room. That alone was strange, but his voice. It was British, but it sounded weird, like it was unused, or he couldn't hear what it sounded like.

He was hiding something. He kept staring at Francis, like he was trying to figure out when he would do something. He didn't seem to listen to the teacher. When they had to do a practical, he asked Francis what to do, and stared at him while the Frenchman explained. Then, at the end of the lesson, he went up and got something from the teacher. (Francis totally hadn't stayed behind to spy on the curious Brit)

Nothing about Arthur made sense. Nothing added up.

His phone buzzed, making him sit up suddenly. He checked the gadget. One Facebook message from Gilbert, and a text from Antonio. He read the messages, face unchanging.

Facebook was all so… samesy. The people were all the same; the posers, the sluts, the duck faces… there was the odd different person, but most people were so stupid it hurt.

Wait… what if Arthur had Facebook? Yes, then Francis could find out a lot more about him, and he wouldn't even know!

The Frenchman quickly typed in the curious teen's name, and waited for the results. There! A click later had discovered that his last post had been a week ago, where he had put:

_**Off to buy the new series of Sherlock. I would have seen it ages ago, my TV doesn't do subtitles. But anyway, I can't wait! I wonder what misadventures Sherlock and Dr Watson will get up to?**_

Francis wondered for a second what Sherlock was. Then he noticed another strange thing.

Why would Arthur need subtitles?

This whole thing just got even more curious.

Francis quickly copied down the Brit's contact details into his phone and clicked 'add as friend'. If his plan worked, he would find out all about the teen in no time.

Soon, Arthur Kirkland's secret would be known to him.

And then… well, we'd have to wait and see.

**A/N: Oh noes! Arthur, if you don't want to be found out, don't put stuff like that on Facebook. Be thankful Francis isn't exactly a smart cookie.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please R&R, and follow and favourite too! I love stuff like that!**

**Until next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all the reviews, favourites and follows! It really means a lot to me!**

**On another note, I'm going on holiday tomorrow for two weeks. The first week I have internet, the second, I don't, so I'll see if I can update!**

**Oh yeah, when there… are… sentences… like… this… it means Arthur isn't quite getting the full sentence, so is missing stuff out. This could be because they aren't facing him properly so he can't lip read, or for other reasons.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Facebook (Forgot to mention that last chapter…)**

"Speaking"

'Signing'

'_Thoughts'_

Chapter 3

By the time the next day came around, Francis was thoroughly confused. He had thought about the Facebook status late into the night, but still couldn't come up with a solution. Arthur had declined his friend request, but he still had text. And besides, it was Chemistry today, so he would see Arthur again. But that still didn't solve the mystery of why the Brit would need subtitles.

Francis threw his hands up in the air with frustration. Nothing about Arthur made sense!

He walked to the Bad Touch Trio's usual meeting point, where Antonio and Gilbert were waiting.

"Franny! You finally arrived!" Gilbert exclaimed, slinging an arm around his friend and ruffling his hair.

"Don't mess up the hair! It took me ages to get it perfect this morning!" Francis shouted, pushing away from the Prussian and trying to fix his hair, which, truthfully, was perfect despite the attack from Gilbert.

The albino held his hands up in surrender, and backed away towards Antonio.

"Whoa, sorry. But anyway, we sure did knock some sense into Kirkland yesterday, huh?"

"It serves him right for not looking at you! Everyone knows that they've got to look when one of us enters the room!" Antonio said with a smile upon his tanned face. The Frenchman's perfect eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Something doesn't add up about him though! I went on his profile last night and it said something about subtitles! Why would he need subtitles?"

"Maybe it isn't him that needs the subtitles." Gilbert suggested as the trio began the walk to school. "Maybe it's a parent or something?"

"That would make sense." The Frenchman replied. Out of all the options, this was the most likely.

"Now amigo, let me tell you about Lovi!"

The two sighed. It was going to be a long journey.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::

Arthur took his seat in the lab. He was first here, just as he liked it. No people to bother him.

"What are we doing today?" He asked the teacher, who smiled at him.

"No practical today, Arthur. We're taking notes on making salts. How about I give you yours now to save you from coming at the end of class?"

"That would be great, thank you." The Brit took the notes from Mrs Law before returning to his seat and flicking through them. It seemed easy enough. Acid + Metal = Salt +Hydrogen. Acid + Carbonate = Salt + Water + Carbon Dioxide. Acid + Base = Salt-

He was brought out of his studying stupor by a tap on his shoulder. Arthur sat up with a start and looked around. Francis was smiling at him, taking his chair next to him. His mouth was moving, but because he wasn't facing him directly Arthur couldn't understand a word he was saying.

Thankfully, Mrs Law started the lesson then, alerting the class by shouting and stomping her foot. Francis settled down and concentrated on the teacher, while Arthur went back to his notes.

The class went by rather quickly. It had been perfect, apart from Francis trying to get his attention all the way through. Arthur just ignored him, instead choosing to focus on what the teacher was saying. Something about homewor-

Oh no.

Anything but this.

"You will be working with your partner to make a short presentation on the topic of your choice. However, you only have a month to do it, so you'd better start quickly! Your homework is to decide what topic you are doing. Now, off to your next lesson!"

Francis turned to Arthur, a smile plastered across his perfect face.

"…Exciting, mon cher... work… meet… after school today? Is that good for you?"

"Erm…" The Brit tried to make sense of the information he had gotten from that sentence. Presumably, Francis was asking him if he could come over after school today, probably to work on the project.

His parents wouldn't care where he was, and his brothers couldn't care less either. Mary, maybe but she wouldn't text him or anything. Also, it would be hard to keep his secret, hence why he hadn't made any friends in the months he had been at this school. But he didn't want to get a low grade, which would spell trouble with his parents… What should he do?

Eventually, he chose the answer which would mean less trouble.

"That's fine with me."

"I shall meet you at the bike sheds when the bell rings, oui?"

"Sure." Arthur said, standing up. There were only a few people left in the classroom, and Mrs Law was beginning to look at him strangely. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to my next lesson." With that, he stalked off, leaving a confused Frenchman staring at an empty doorway.

It was to their surprise that they met five minutes later, in a history lesson.

Arthur had come in and taken a seat at the front so he could lip read the teacher easier. He got out his notebook and began to scribble in it. His messy handwriting took up about half of the book's pages, and he wasn't even close to finishing his story. He poured his emotions and experiences into his notebook. The only thing that had changed was the name and ailment of the protagonist. Instead of Arthur it was Oliver, and instead of him being deaf he was blind.

A bit later, Francis arrived. As usual, everyone looked up as he entered. He was going to take his usual seat next to Gilbert and Antonio, but it had been taken by that Italian boy that Antonio lovingly referred to as 'Lovi' but whose name was in fact Lovino. Francis was going to argue his rights when Mr Morrison gave him a glare that told the Frenchman to find a seat or get out of the room.

The only other seat was next to Arthur, who hadn't even looked up. Francis would let it slide this time, but only because he needed to sit next to him and didn't want the Englishman to shout at him again.

He slid into the seat with his normal grace. Sneaking a glance at Arthur, Francis saw that the Brit still hadn't looked up, even though Mr Morrison had started the lesson. He was already half way through a speech about the Russian revolution.

This stayed the same throughout the lesson. The only time Arthur even gave a hint that he was listening was when a short film, made by a 'most famous director' on windows movie maker, came on and the lights were turned off. Arthur looked up so fast he may have gotten whiplash. He worriedly looked around, and seeing it was just a video, concentrated on the screen.

After the lesson, when he made to leave, Arthur almost jumped out of his skin when he saw Francis sitting next to him.

"Bonjour." Francis greeted with a smile that could make ladies faint. Instead of swooning, Arthur just barged past and went to see the teacher, who handed him a stack of paper. The Brit then stormed off and Francis was once again left in awe.

He would have stayed there a lot longer if Gilbert, Antonio and a reluctant Lovino hadn't come over.

"Hola Francis. I'm sorry about your seat, but I wanted to sit next to Lovi today!"

"Bastard! My name is Lo-vi-no! None of this Lovi crap!" Lovino interjected, pointing an accusing finger at the Spaniard, who just chuckled.

"It's alright Antonio. The class was not that bad."

Mr Morrison raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Don't you have lessons to be going to folks?"

"Yes sir!" Gilbert exclaimed. The trio plus one extra left the room and made their way to the next lesson.

Antonio and Gilbert talked while Lovino swore at them. Francis was deep in thought, and he failed to notice when Matthew passed him by on his way to the school office. He failed to notice Gilbert's blush as the Canadian passed them by. He failed to notice when Heracles fell asleep in the corridor mid-way through getting his books for the next two lessons and cats came pouring out. No, Francis' thoughts were on Arthur.

The mysterious boy that hadn't looked at him. The boy who became his partner in Chemistry. The boy who didn't concentrate in history and got off scot free. The boy that didn't make sense.

Arthur Kirkland was a mystery, a mystery that Francis was determined to solve.

**A/N: I hope that was a good enough chapter. I had serious writers block.**

**Both the teachers that appear are actual teachers in my school, and they are both actually like that in real life. The only difference is that Mrs Law is actually a Mr Law (I realised I had written she before thinking of a name so had to gender-bend him).**

**Hope you enjoyed! Please R&R, and don't forget to follow and favourite too!**

**\(^_^)/**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Erm… hello? **

***ducks things thrown at her***

**I AM SO SORRY! I have barely had time to update my other fic, and I've been back for ages now! I should have updated ages ago! SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY**

**Also WHY WRITERS BLOCK WHY**

**On another note, thank you for all the reviews, follows and favourites! **

**Disclaimer: I own a couple of hetalia DVDs, but not the actual thing…**

**And… remember… sentences… like… this… mean that Artie is not getting everything that is being said.**

"Speaking"

'Signing'

'_Thoughts'_

Chapter 5

By the time four o clock rolled around, Arthur was sick of seeing Francis. That stupid frog kept on popping up all day, first in history, then at lunch, then in the corridors! Barely an hour went by without Arthur seeing the Frenchman, and the Brit was getting annoyed with his stupid blond hair and his stupid eyebrows and his gorgeous blue eyes-

He shook his head. No need to be thinking like _that._

The bike shed was hidden away behind the school, out of the way of the road. He arrived to see Francis leaning against one of the wooden frames, looking for all the world like he had just got back from a photo shoot (even in the plaid trousers and blue jumper of their school uniform). When he saw Arthur, the man rose from his position.

"Arthur… cher!" Francis exclaimed. "Are you looking… visiting_ chez moi_?"

"Don't talk to me in your stupid language! Can we just get this fucking project over and done with?"

"Ah… course! Allons-y!"

Most of the sentence was lost as Francis span around, the end only being understood as Arthur saw Francis' lips move and he knew the phrase from Doctor Who.

The Frenchman led the way, walking out the gates and off to the right. Arthur followed, looking around at all the buildings. He lived in the opposite direction so didn't go this way often, but he knew what kind of place it was.

It was the rich side of town.

He wandered along after Francis. All the houses were so _big_. And posh! They all looked like country mansions, not town houses.

Okay, Arthur might have been exaggerating a bit. But they were huge compared to the flat that he shared with his family.

Francis was talking. About what Arthur didn't know. He could have been talking about porn or ponies or about how the world was going to end by carnivorous jam and Arthur wouldn't know. The British teen chose to nod while looking around at all the amazing architecture.

He didn't notice when he stepped out onto the road. And he certainly didn't notice the car speeding towards him.

"ARTHUR!" Francis shouted. It went unheard by the Brit.

The car honked its horn, but still Arthur didn't stop walking.

Just as the car was about to hit him, Francis grabbed hold of the teen's rucksack and pulled with all of his might. Arthur came tumbling back as the car sped past, horn blaring.

The Frenchman caught the Brit before he could hit the concrete.

"What were you thinking?" Francis raged, spinning the boy round to face him. "Did you not fucking hear me? Did you not hear the fucking car honk its fucking horn?"

Arthur lightly shook his head, tears threatening to spill out from his eyes. Of course he _didn't fucking hear_. But Francis didn't know that. Couldn't ever know that.

The Frenchman sighed.

"Let's just get to my house before you actually get hit."

He stalked off, leaving Arthur standing on the pavement, green eyes wide and heart pounding. He carefully looked for cars before following, running to catch up.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::

"_This _is your house?"

"I… surprised." Francis said, turning away to unlock the door. He stepped inside, probably announcing his arrival as he did so.

A beautiful woman appeared in the hallway. Slightly wavy blond hair cascaded down her back. Her blue dress matched her eyes perfectly, and a diamond necklace lay at her throat.

Well, Arthur could see where Francis got his looks from.

"Bonjour darling!" Mrs Bonnefoy exclaimed, drawing Arthur into a huge hug. The boy stiffened under her grip.

He was eventually released to see a smirking Francis and a woman with sparkling white teeth.

"I'm Madame Bonnefoy, but you can call me Evangeline." Francis' mother smiled again. "You must be Arthur! Francis hasn't shut up about you!"

Now that was interesting.

"Would you like a drink?" Evangeline asked, staring Arthur straight in the eye. He nodded slightly before answering.

"Just water, please." He replied, hoping his voice didn't sound too weird.

Mrs Bonnefoy turned to her son and said something. Francis nodded and walked up the stairs. Arthur stood, stunned for a second, before running after him.

Francis' room was bigger than his living room. A king sized bed lay, pushed back in the middle of the wall. Another wall had a desk pushed against it, and another had a bookcase. There were a few posters scattered about, mostly of French bands and French TV shows and French things.

Francis settled himself in a bean bag, whereas Arthur just took the floor.

"So… what… project on?" Francis asked, leaning forward.

"Oh… how about the preparation of insoluble salts?" He replied, leaning back.

Francis said something in French that Arthur didn't understand. He had never been any good at it even before he went deaf, and only knew the basics. Matthew had taught him to lip read those basics, but anything other than that and he was stumped.

"So…" The Frenchman was back to English now. "Present… how?"

"You decide. I already decided the topic, so you should get some say in it."

Francis looked deep in thought for a second.

"How about a power point?" He asked, staring at Arthur. "You do have a computer, right?"

They had the one, ancient computer between the seven of them, and it was almost impossible for Arthur to get even five minutes on it at a time.

"Yes." He replied, glancing at the state of the art laptop on Francis' desk.

Again, Francis said something in French. Arthur was getting really frustrated. He wanted to hear the Frenchman's voice.

'_I bet it sounds disgusting and slimy, like the frog he is. The way those French words slip out of his mouth, it'll sound like a chorus of angels- Wait, what? I meant it'll sound like a frog croaking! Yeah!'_

He was taken away from his thoughts when Francis shook him.

"What was that for?" He shouted, before telling himself to calm down. If he did that again, Francis might not be so ready to forgive.

"I was wondering if you wanted to stay for dinner. You zoned… didn't hear…"

Oh.

If he stayed for tea, he'd have to try and lip read not only Francis, but Mrs Bonnefoy as well and maybe even Mr Bonnefoy. That would mean they might figure out that he's deaf, and then Francis would tell everyone and the secret would be out and he'd be bullied and it'd be like _there _all over again-

'_Francis wouldn't do anything like that!'_ his mind told him '_He's sweet and kind and definitely not a bully-'_

'_STOP THINKING NICE THINGS ABOUT FRANCIS!'_

"No thank you. My parents are expecting me back." He lied.

"Oh…" Francis' smile faltered for a second. "… Alright… parents… that."

Just then, something in Arthur's rucksack vibrated. The Brit fished around in the bag for a second before drawing out the oldest phone Francis had ever seen. It actually looked like a painted brick.

While Francis was in awe of Arthur's phone, the teen was reading the text that he had gotten, not from Matthew, but surprisingly from his brother.

'_**M + D wondrin whr u r, runt. B bak b4 5:30 or big trbl.'**_

Arthur checked his watch. Twenty five past five.

Well shit.

"I'm very sorry Francis, but my mum and dad want me back. I'm afraid I've got to go."

"Oh… same… tomorrow? We… start… project?"

"Sure." The Brit said, swinging his back onto his back.

"I'm coming with you." Francis stated, getting up from the bean bag. "I wouldn't want you to get hit with a car now, would I?"

"No, I really need to-"

"I insist."

Arthur just sighed.

"Go on then."

He ran down the stairs and out the door. Francis was right behind him, probably shouting to his mother about where they were going.

The teen sprinted down the street, his French colleague only just managing to keep up.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::

It had taken them ten minutes of sprinting to get to Arthur's.

"Thanks for walking me back Francis see you tomorrow bye!" The Brit shouted, flinging himself through the door and leaving a very stunned Frenchman outside.

"I can't believe he lives here…" He muttered, turning away from the ugly block of flats and back down the road.

Meanwhile, Arthur was sprinting up twenty flights of stairs. The lift had broken down, so he had to run to their flat as fast as he could.

Finally, he reached the flat. Knowing the door would be open; he yanked it open and ran through.

"I'm back!" He declared, standing panting in the doorway.

His brothers didn't even look up from where they were sitting on the sofa watching crappy TV. Allistor, with his bushy ginger hair and beard along with his green eyes and thick eyebrows was pretty intimidating. Dylan was less so, with messy blond hair like Arthurs, green eyes and the signature eyebrows. The only difference between him Arthur was Dylan's hair was cut shorter, and his eyebrows were less thick. Mary, the only girl, wasn't scary at all when you just looked at her. With her straight ginger hair, green eyes, freckles and dainty physique she was pretty much the essence of cute. But when she was mad, she really was mad. Finally, Liam looked pretty much like his twin sister, except his hair was cut short and he got angry a lot easier. They had all somehow managed to cram onto the sofa only meant for three people, and were eating crisps whilst watching the Jeremy Kyle show.

"Yer late." Allistor stated, looking him directly in the eye.

"I had to run. It was twenty minutes' walk away."

"Well ye should have run!"

"I did!" Arthur retorted.

His father came into the room, bottle of beer in hand. He was the essence of slob, with his greasy ginger hair and fat belly hanging out from his stained wife beater and boxers.

He said something to Allistor, and the older teen sat down. It was probably something like 'Don't waste your time on the deaf retard.' That was what he usually said.

He kicked Mary and Liam off the sofa and they skulked back to their room. His father then turned to him.

"Why are you late?" He said slowly, and Arthur could tell there was menace in there.

"I was doing a project at my friend's house."

He didn't know why he called Francis his friend, but it was just what seemed right. Francis was a friend, right? If he wasn't then why would he be nice to him?

'_Because he's trying to draw you in. He'll spit you out and leave you alone in the dust.'_

"Deaf retards don't have friends. Now go make us tea. And make sure it's not burned to a fucking crisp this time." His father settled on the sofa, only just leaving enough room for Dylan and Allistor.

Arthur sighed before making his way to the kitchen. He knew that the food would be burnt anyways, but he certainly could try.

Just as he was adding the pasta to the water he felt a tap on his shoulder. He dropped all the pasta in in surprise and the hot water splashed him a bit.

Trying to ignore the pain on his hand, Arthur turned round to see Mary leaning against the wall.

'You alright Artie?' she signed. Just seeing this made him happy. His sister was the only one who had bothered to learn sign language, even if it was just a little bit. Even his own mother hadn't bothered to learn it.

"Fine thanks." He replied with his voice. "Is mum out again?"

Mary nodded.

"Probably with some man she met at the bar."

"But it's only half five!"

"Has that ever stopped her before?"

His sister peered behind him at the pan.

"Arthur, the pasta's boiling over."

"Shit!" He exclaimed, spinning around to try to calm the water.

The end result was probably the best bit of cooking Arthur had ever made. However, it still tasted like crap. Everyone (except Mary, but she was the only decent one and Arthur knew she was trying to spare his feelings) complained about the taste. Hardy any was eaten and his father eventually called for take away. Arthur was not allowed any, and told to eat the 'crap that he made'. He was then sent to their bedroom for the rest of the evening.

It hadn't always been like this. For the first twelve years of his life, everything had been good. They were like a normal, happy family. Then, after he went deaf, everything changed. He was in hospital for a long time. It put stress on his family. His mum started going out to bars every night trying to pick up men, and his father drank himself away. His brothers ignored him, and most of the time even Mary didn't talk to him.

He punched the wall in a fit of rage. It wasn't his fault! Why were they always blaming him for everything that happened! Just because he was deaf didn't mean he didn't have feelings!

He buried his head in his pillow and cried himself to sleep, dreaming of better times.

**A/N: That's the longest chapter I've written for this story so far.**

**So we get a glimpse into Arthur's life at home. I apologise for the bad writing that takes place in this chapter. I had pretty severe writers block and didn't know what to write.**

**Also, I think the romance will be starting pretty soon. As you can see, Artie is starting to think nice thoughts about Francis, which is a plus.**

**Feed a hungry author? Please review! Your donation will make an author very happy.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm so sorry! I've had a really few weeks! A family member passed away so we've been visiting my family a lot. And when I am at home, I can hardly get the computer off my brother. And even then I procrastinate by watching Supernatural or playing Hetaoni. **

**I'm sorry.**

**Thanks for all the beautiful reviews! They really make my day.**

**I forgot to mention last chapter, Allistor is Scotland, Dylan is Wales, Mary is Northern Ireland and Liam is the Republic of Ireland. Arthur's dad is just… their dad.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia, would I really be writing this.**

"Speaking"

'Signing'

'_Thoughts'_

Chapter 6

Francis was worried.

His mind kept on wandering back to last night. Why did Arthur need to leave so suddenly? Was it his family? Why did he refuse to stay for dinner if he lived where he lived?

And worst of all, Arthur hadn't turned up to school today.

He hadn't been in chemistry, and Francis hadn't seen him around all day. The Frenchman's mind was full of what could have happened. Had he been hit by a car on his way to school? He wouldn't put it past Arthur, what with last night.

So, after a day of worrying, Francis decided he needed answers. He dragged Antonio away from Lovino, grabbed Gilbert and forced the two to come to the school office with him.

The trio barged into the school office. Or, rather, Francis barged through the door and the other two just followed. But anyway, the Frenchman, the Spaniard and the Prussian walked up to the desk of one of the office ladies.

"I would like to speak with Mathieu." Francis announced, flipping his hair over his shoulder.

The lady looked up from her paperwork.

"Who?"

"Mathieu… Mathieu…"

"Williams?" An unknown voice suggested.

"Mathieu Williams." Francis concluded.

The lady just pointed behind the group. They turned round to see the Canadian standing behind them, stuffed polar bear clutched in his arms.

"You were looking for me?" Matthew said, glancing at Gilbert. The Prussian looked away.

Francis noticed the exchange but chose not to mention it.

"Ah, yes. I was wondering if you knew where Arthur was today. He wasn't in school, you see."

"I'm sorry, I don't." The man looked at Francis. "He missed his session, and he never misses his sessions."

"Do you know his address?" Antonio asked. Although he hadn't talked to the Brit, he knew he meant a lot to Francis, so was willing to go along with it.

"Yes, but I don't think it's a good idea-"

"What is it?" Francis looked up at the man eagerly. Matthew cast a glance at Gilbert before sighing.

"Alright. It's flat one hundred and one. You can go, but I'm coming with you."

That was how the three found themselves crammed into Matthew's tiny Vauxhall. Gilbert was sitting shotgun and Antonio and Francis were in the backseats.

Conversation was a little awkward. Neither Gilbert nor Matthew knew what to say, so it was up to Francis to get the conversations going, and hopefully spread the love.

"It's nice weather we're having, don't you think?"

Matthew made a small 'hmm' in agreement and Gilbert nodded. That would not do. Francis would have to up his game.

"So, Mathieu, what is your family like?"

Matthew paused slightly before answering.

"I live with my mother and my step-father. I also have a little brother called Alfred."

"Really? What a coincidence! Gilbert has a little brother too! How old is Ludwig now, Gil?"

"Eight…" Gilbert muttered.

"That's really weird!" This time it was Matthew that spoke up. "Alfred's eight too! I bet they're in the same class, assuming he goes to Hetalia Primary."

"He does." Gilbert confirmed. "Lud isn't much for making friends though. He only has two. Little Feli and Kiku."

"Oh! Alfred is friends with Kiku too! He's really sweet, but has trouble making friends. He only has Kiku, Mathias and Ivan, bless him."

The two continued to talk about their siblings for the rest of the journey. In the back, Francis smiled to himself. Mission accomplished.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::

"Here we are; flat 101."

The Bad Touch Trio looked at the door in slight disgust. The paint was chipped and the final number one was lopsided. The door handle looked ready to fall off.

Matthew didn't seem disturbed by all this. Instead, he knocked on the door before stepping next to Gilbert.

After a while, the door was opened by a girl not much older than them, with straight ginger hair, green eyes and a face dusted with freckles.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

"We were wondering if Arthur was in." Francis said, assuming the role of leader.

Before the girl could answer, a voice came from inside the flat.

"Retard's not in."

The girl turned round, anger marring her face.

"Don't call him that Allistor!" She shouted before turning back to the group at the door. "He went out this morning in his uniform. Why, has something happened?"

"He wasn't at school today."

"He didn't turn up to his appointment." Matthew and Gilbert said at the same time. They turned to each other and blushed.

"Oh, hello Matt! I didn't see you there. But to answer your question, I haven't seen Arthur since this morning. I'm sorry."

"No need to be, ma cher." Francis kissed the girl's hand. "What might your name be?"

"Mary." She replied coldly. "And you are…?"

The other three stood by awkwardly as Francis bowed to Mary.  
"Francis Bonnefoy, at your service."

"Oh, so you're Arthur's friend!" Mary squealed, clapping her hands together and ignoring the fact that a Frenchman was bowing in front of her. "I'm so glad to finally meet you! He hasn't had a friend ever since-"

She was cut off by two things. One was Matthew making 'stop' motions with his hands. The other was the arrival of a very drunk looking Arthur.

He stumbled down the corridor, hands scraping the walls, trying to find a hand hold. He failed and fell to the ground.

"There you are Arthur!" Mary rushed out to give her brother a hand.

"Pa! Ma! Retard's back!" Allistor called from the sofa.

"Allistor!" The girl shouted before looking at the boy, who was currently leaning on her. "Arthur, where have you been? These four said you weren't at school today!"

Arthur didn't answer, merely choosing to slur an incoherent sentence.

"Ifuckin loooovvveee beer. I see whymumdrink s it."

"Ah." Mary said. "Could one of you give me a hand please?"

Antonio helped Arthur up and together the two got him inside the flat. Matthew, Francis and Gilbert followed, not quite sure what to do.

Inside, they saw a man taking up most of the sofa, with another man squeezed onto the end. Two boys, one not much older than Francis and Gilbert and the other a bit younger than Matthew, were sat on the floor. All eyes were fixed on the telly, where an action movie was playing.

Mary and Antonio returned just as a woman came out of the other room. She was very skinny and was wearing a dress that revealed too much skin for a woman of her age. Her bleach blond hair was styled and make up was splotched on her face. In other words, she looked incredibly silly.

"I'm going out." She announced, striding past the others and out the door. None of the men looked up.

"Right." Mary said after the woman, who Francis assumed was her mother, had left. "I assume that instead of going to school, Arthur instead went to an off-licence, used a fake ID to buy beer, then proceeded to get totally and utterly sloshed."

"At least the retard's doing one thing right with his life." Allistor commented.

"Stop calling him a retard Allistor! How would you like it if you were insulted all day every day?"

"Calm down sis." The youngest boy said. "It's not like he can hear him."

"I've had it with this family!" Mary flung her hands up in the air. "But anyway, tomorrow I'll personally walk him to school, so expect him there. I honestly don't know what's brought this on."

"Shut yer trap Mary!" The man yelled. "And get these wankers out me flat! They say they're friends of the retards? Then they can get the fuck out of my flat!"

"Arthur's allowed friends dad! Just because he's-"

"Mr Kirkland is right!" Matthew interrupted. "We should get going. I promised my mother I'd pick Alfred up from Ivan's at five, and it's nearly that. Thank you very much Mary."

With that, Matthew pushed the trio out of the flat and closed the door behind them.

"Phew." Matthew sighed, wiping a hand over his forehead.

The trio were speechless.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Matthew dropped them off at Gauken Hetalia. He drove off, but not before exchanging numbers with Gilbert (at Francis' suggestion).

"That was… interesting." Antonio said as the trio walked in the direction of their houses.

"It was awesome!" The two looked at Gilbert. "What? I got Birdies number, and if that isn't awesome, I don't know what is!"

"Birdie." Francis repeated.

"J-just a nickname I gave Mattie."

They walked in silence. Francis was lost in his thoughts. Gilbert was lost in his. And Antonio was thinking about how when Lovi blushed he looked like a cute little tomato!

'_It's all so strange.' _Francis thought. _'Why would he get drunk? He doesn't seem like the type to skip school; he seems like the type to be engrossed in his studies. Also, he _really_ can't hold his alcohol.'_

The next day at school, Arthur was feeling the effects of his rebellious day.

"Why did I ever think drinking was a good idea…?" He muttered to himself, making his way to the office. According to Mary, Matthew had rung last night and asked if Arthur could see him tomorrow.

He walked into the office. The lady at the desk didn't even look up, just pointed to where Matthew was sitting.

'Hello Artie. How are you feeling today?' Matthew signed, smirking slightly.

'Like shit.' Arthur replied, glaring at the Canadian. 'I didn't know you could smirk.'

'I didn't know you could drink. Oh wait…'

'Fuck you.'

'Actually, you should be thanking me. I was the one that stopped Francis from finding out about you being deaf.'

'Thank you very much Matt. What else do you want, a medal?'

'No, but I would quite like for you to babysit Alfred tomorrow. Mum and David are going out, as am I.'

'Who with?' Arthur asked, curiosity piqued. Matthew hardly ever went out.

'Gilbert. Now, have you learnt the words I asked you to learn?'

'Yes sir. And congratulations on finally growing a pair and asking him out.'

'Actually it was him that asked me.' The bell rang, ending their discussion. 'Get to class. Also, I don't think it should be you lecturing me on asking people out.'

'What do you mean by that?'

Matthew just smiled and pointed to the door. Arthur nodded and waved goodbye. He begrudgingly made his way to Geography, clutching his head in his hands.

It was going to be a long day.

**A/N: Was that alright? I'm sorry if this chapter sucks; I had a bit of writers block. **

**Not much Artie in this chapter, I know. And more PruCan than FrUK, I know. I just wanted to include Matthew and Gilbert somehow, and this seemed the right time.**

**I eat reviews, so if you don't want me to starve before I can get the next chapter up… well, you better review.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey guys!**

***ducks for cover***

**I'm so sorry! I haven't updated in ages! I was so busy during the holidays! And now, I'm back at school and starting exams and stuff, which means more homework and less time to write this and my other stories! But, I will hopefully be updating once a week!**

…

**ALL THE REVIEWS! Thank you all so much for your kind words! It keeps me updating!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these adorable dorks.**

"Speaking"

'Signing'

'_Thoughts'_

**And remember! Sentences… like… this… mean that our favourite dork is missing out on some parts of the sentences.**

Chapter 7

"So… you… power point tonight?"

Arthur nodded and the Frenchman smiled.

"Great! ... good mark!"

"Yeah." The Brit muttered. He probably wouldn't get to go on the computer tonight. Not with every member of the family in.

"Wonderful! After… you… mine…?"

He really didn't understand what Francis was trying to say. But he couldn't tell him that. No, if that happened…

"Maybe." It seemed a safe answer, so he went with that.

Francis' expression saddened slightly, but was back to normal as quickly as it had changed.

The bell rang. The two rose from their seats.

"See you tomorrow." Arthur told Francis. The teen nodded.

"Tomorrow."

But Arthur missed the last part of the sentence, as he had already turned away and left the classroom.

He ran all the way home. Father really couldn't care less about him, and neither could mother. But Mary liked him to be back before four, and school got out at half past three.

The arrived at the flat. His siblings were all watching the TV again, all except for Dylan who was…

On the computer. Of course.

He sighed. It was almost guaranteed that this would happen.

Still, in the immortal words of some guy:

'You never know until you try.'

"Hey… Dylan?" His brother didn't even turn around. "Could I maybe go on the computer? I need to do a power point for homework. It's a really important piece of homework too, one that could change my school career for better or worse-"

It was at this point the blond decided to turn around.

"Shut up, will ya runt? Ya can't go on the bloody computer, because I'm using it!"

"But, Dylan, please, this is a really important bit of work-"

"N O spells no. Or is being deaf messed with ya brain?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur noticed Allistor throw his head back. He must have made a derogatory comment, because Dylan burst out laughing.

He dropped his head and made his way to their shared room. He knew this would happen. Now Francis would be disappointed with him, and that was bad because he wanted Francis to like him, and Francis was his friend but he wanted him to be so much more-

'_What? I did not just think that! Nope, totally didn't. Francis is such a slimy, greasy frog, there's no way I could like him! I actually hate that frog, even though he is one of my only friends…_

_SHUT UP!'_

But seriously now, Francis would hate him. Their whole grade for their report relied on this project, and if Arthur didn't hold up his side of the bargain… besides, it had to be in next week!

It was all because he was deaf. If he hadn't had contracted Meningitis, and if his immune system had've been up to it, then he wouldn't be here. He would still be at his old school with his old friends, his old band and his old life. His parents wouldn't resent him, and he actually might have a chance with Francis-

'_DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO SHUT UP?!'_

He buried himself beneath the covers of his bed. All he wanted right now was to be normal, not flawed, not useless and not deaf.

He wished with all his might, but that doesn't mean it would ever come true.

_**~oOo**_

Mary shook him awake at about eleven at night. She said that Dylan had stopped using the computer now, so he could use it if he wanted to. All the others had gone to bed. Well, except for mum, but that was to be expected.

He quietly snuck into the front room. The lights were off, cloaking the room in darkness.

Arthur tiptoed his way to the computer. It was old; bought in the nineties by his parents when they first moved into the flat. Its screen was cracked from when the Internet had been lost and Allistor had thrown a bottle of beer at it. He remembered finding it funny at the time.

But then again, it was before the illness.

He pressed the button and prayed to Freckled Jesus that it was on mute. He remembered the windows theme playing so loud, it woke the neighbours.

Thankfully, it must have been muted, because no one came and threw him back to bed. Either that or the sound had broken.

It was probably the latter.

Anyway, quietly thanking Freckled Jesus, he quickly accessed the Internet. The slowness of the computer plus the fact that he was using internet explorer meant that half an hour later and he had just typed in 'preparation of insoluble salts' into Google. It was then he realised he had all the information in his chemistry folder, and he didn't even need to access the internet anyway.

He really felt like throwing a beer bottle at the screen.

It was three in the morning that the finally sank back into bed, power point safely e-mailed to Francis and also put on a memory stick.

He was vaguely aware of his mum coming in the room before he fell asleep, out like a log.

_**~oOo~**_

"I hope you're aware of what I went through to get this." Arthur announced, sliding into his seat next to Francis. The Frenchman turned to face him, a perfect smile plastered on his perfect face.

"Wonderful!" He gasped, and Arthur found himself smiling. "Out of interest, what did you go through?"

"I had to wait until eleven o clock to start the bloody thing, and I was up until three."

"Do you have it?"

"On a memory stick." The teen clarified, rummaging about his bag for the USB.

He searched for it. He dumped all the books out of his bag and checked again. He looked in every pocket, even dumped his bag upside down. The memory stick was nowhere to be found.

"Thought… said… done…?" Francis asked, peering into the bag.

"I had!" Arthur snapped. "I swear on my mother's life I put it in here!"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure!" He was sure he was shouting now, but he didn't care. People were staring, yet the tears still threatened to fall.

"Arthur, calm down-"

"No! It was in here! I swear!" He had disappointed Francis. He had let Francis down.

"Arthur, look at me. I believe you."

Then Matthew was there, pulling Arthur into his arms. He was openly crying now, knowing that he'd failed, he'd let Francis down, he'd hate him forever.

They were in another classroom, and Matthew was rocking him, holding him close in a tight embrace. His cries subsided into sniffles, and eventually stopped altogether.

The Canadian spun him around and held him at arm's length.

'What was that about?'

"I had the memory stick; I swear it was right there in my bag."

'Art, you're not making any sense.'

"I let Francis down. I let Francis down."

'Arthur, snap out of it!'

He was aware of the signing going on; he just couldn't bring himself to stop.

'That's it, you're coming to mine.'

The next thing he knew, he was in the old car, and it was driving away. He was still muttering, but it didn't matter.

Francis was sure to hate him now.

And that was all that mattered, wasn't it? He was the only one that had ever cared, ever bothered to get to know him. Matthew only knew him because he was his therapist, and that was how Alfred knew him too.

Arthur respected Francis for that.

He loved Francis for that.

But that didn't matter. He'd let Francis down, and now there was no going back.

Francis would never forgive him. And he could never like him the way Arthur did.

It was then that Arthur Kirkland decided that unrequited love was the worst.

**A/N: So…**

**Arthurs come to terms with his feelings. I'm sorry if this is a crappy excuse for romance and stuff, I've never really written it before.**

**As for why he flips out over such a menial thing… well, Arthur didn't want to let Francis down. He needed everything to be perfect, and when he forgot it… that made him break down.**

**But was the memory stick even forgotten anyway?**

**I'm gonna leave you with those thoughts for now.**

**Can we get to one hundred reviews? I THINK WE CAN!**

**See you next chapter! It should be in about a week!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello once again! Welcome to another chapter of Music to My Ears!**

**Can I just thank you all for the reviews? Guess how many we got? One hundred and eleven, that's how many!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own… I crei…**

"Speaking"

'Signing'

'_Thoughts'_

**Just a reminder… sentences… like… these… mean that Arthur isn't quite getting everything. But I think you all know that by now.**

Chapter 8

Matthew Williams was worried.

The teen in the passenger seat of his car seemed to have had a mental breakdown. He was rocking back and forth in the seat, muttering nonsense about memory sticks and Francis. Arthur was completely out of it, ignoring any attempts to get his attention.

He put his foot down on the accelerator and the car accelerated, speeding away at almost twice the speed limit.

Arthur needed help. And fast.

_**~oOo~**_

Francis Bonnefoy was also worried.

It had seemed like such a normal day at the start. Then Arthur had what seemed like a mental breakdown in chemistry.

It made no sense. One minute, he was fine, bickering away with Francis like nothing was wrong. Then he couldn't find his memory stick, and he just burst into tears. He was screaming and crying, and Francis didn't know what to do. How do you calm down a crying teen that wouldn't listen?

Someone must have remembered that in situations like these, it was best to go get Matthew, for the man had arrived within minutes. Arthur had been carted off, cries by then subsiding, leaving the Frenchman the centre of attention.

Usually, that would have been a good thing, but not today. Today he didn't want all the stares. He just wanted to be alone with Arthur.

And that scared him.

He was worried about Arthur, so incredibly worried. How was he? Had he stopped crying? What had happened?

The teacher had come in and started the lesson, but Francis couldn't concentrate. All he could think about was Arthur. His green eyes, his messy blond hair, his amazing bushy eyebrows that he couldn't imagine the other teen without…

As soon as the bell rang, he was out of his seat and into the corridor. He practically ran to the office and asked for the mobile number of a Mr Matthew Williams.

He couldn't wait anymore. He _had_ to know. Now.

The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Four. He kept listening, waiting for Matthew to pick up.

"_Hello."_

"Hello? Mathieu? It's me, Francis. I was wondering, how is Arthu-"

"_You have reached the voicemail of Matthew Williams. If you need to book an appointment, please call my business number. If this call is personal, I'm sorry I can't come to the phone, but feel free to leave a message after the tone. *BEEP*"_

He didn't even bother leaving a message. He just hung up the phone, his face an unreadable mask.

It looked like he was going to have to wait a little longer.

Why did he care so much anyway? Arthur was just that one guy that ignored him. That one guy that he gave a black eye to. That one guy that by _pure fluke_ he had to sit next to in chemistry.

'_He's not just 'that one guy' anymore, is he? He's so much more.'_

And deep down in his heart, Francis knew it was true.

_**~oOo~**_

'Arthur? Arthur look at me! Arthur! Please reply! Arthur!

The Canadian was signing frantically, his hands a blur. They were in his living room, and Matthew was trying to get a response from the Brit. His eyes were staring ahead, and he didn't so much as blink when Matthew waved his hands in front of his face, or respond when he shook him.

"Mattie? What's wrong with Artie?"

The man turned to his baby brother, who was standing in the doorway, clutching his toy alien. Kiku was slightly behind him, peering out from behind Alfred.

"I don't know Alfie." He replied truthfully.

"Can I see?" The boy asked, and Matthew nodded. Alfred slowly moved towards the unresponsive teen, leaving Kiku standing like a deer in the headlights in the doorway.

Alfred clambered onto Arthur's lap. The eight year old waved his hands in the Brit's face. When that got no response, he went for a different approach.

'Artie? It's me, Alfred. Me and Mattie are really scared right now, so could you please wake up? I would like it a lot if you could.'

"Alfred-san? What are you doing?" Kiku asked, speaking for the first time.

"I'm signing to Artie. Because he's deaf, he can't hear what I'm saying. So I have to sign to him so he can understand." Alfred said, pride filling his voice. "Mattie's deaf too, 'cept not as much as Artie. Mattie can hear a little bit, so he knows what I'm saying. But he learnt sign language too, and became a person that teaches sign language. That's how I know Artie, 'cause Mattie teaches him sign language."

The Japanese child gave a small 'aah' before falling into silence again.

"I let Francis down. I let him down. He hates me now. The memory stick was in my bag, it was in my bag I swear. Francis, Francis hates me."

'Art, is that you? Can you hear me?' Matthew frantically signed.

"Is Matthew-san signing right now?" Kiku asked, and Alfred nodded his head in reply.

'Art? If you can hear me, say so. Please?'

"The memory stick was there, I swear it was right there, Francis, please don't hate me…"

The Canadian turned to the two boys in the doorway.

"He's not quite there." He clarified.

"What do you mean he's not quite there? He's right there! I can see him!"

"It is a figure of speech, Alfred-san. It means that Arthur-san is there physically, just not mentally."

Matthew mentally thanked the Japanese boy.

"When will Artie get back to normal Mattie?" Alfred asked.

"Soon." Matthew replied; his voice confident, although in his mind he wasn't so sure.

'_Please wake up soon Arthur. Come back to us. We need you.'_

_**~oOo~**_

'_It's all your fault.'_

"It's all my fault."

'_He's bound to hate you now.'_

"He's bound to hate me now."

'_He'll never like you the way that you like him.'_

"He'll never like me the way that I like him."

'_It's all your fault.'_

"It's all my fault. It was right there."

'_Except it wasn't, was it?'_

'_He hates you… He hates you…'_

"He hates me… He hates me…"

_**Please wake up soon Arthur. We need you…**_

'_That's a lie. No one needs you.'_

_**Come back to us…**_

'_Stay here. No one needs you.'_

"No one needs me."

'_You're a failure.'_

"I'm a failure."

_**You're not a failure. You are anything but a failure. **_

_**We need you Arthur.**_

_**Come back to us.**_

_**Don't stay here.**_

_**Please come back.**_

_**You have to come back.**_

_**I love you.**_

_**~oOo~**_

Hours later, and Matthew was even more worried than he had been. Arthur still hadn't moved, and he kept on muttering sentences that didn't make sense.

He was beginning to think that maybe he should go to the hospital, when green eyes blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Arthur shook his head.

"What… just happened?" The Brit muttered.

"Arthur!" Matthew gasped, pulling the Brit into a bear hug.

A small voice came from the doorway.

"Artie?"

Matthew turned his head, making Arthur turn his to see what had happened.

"Alfred?" He whispered.

"Artie!" The child shouted, launching himself into the Brit's arms. The two hugged, both happy to see the other.

When they eventually let go, Alfred squirmed a bit.

'I thought you had gone! What happened?'

"I don't know." He replied truthfully. "Where am I? Where's Francis?"

'You're at my house.' Matthew signed. 'And Francis is presumably at school. How could you do that to us? We were so worried! I was about to take you to the hospital!'

"I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. One minute I was in class, and the next minute I was here."

'Sign in my presence please.' The Canadian signed, his movements so sharp and angry that Arthur knew that he meant business.

'Sorry.' The Brit apologised.

'According to someone in your class, you came in as normal, and then just suddenly broke down in tears over a memory stick.'

The memories came flooding back.

'_Francis is going to hate you now.'_

Despite the urge to burst into tears and cry, he kept up his stony demeanour. So what if that stupid frog hated him? It's not like he cared. Nope, totally didn't care.

'Yes, well that project would be half the grade for our school report, and I didn't want to fail because... well, you know why my parents are like. And I'm pretty sure that Francis wouldn't be pleased with half his grade down the drain.'

The Canadian nodded in agreement.

'I'm just glad that you're alright.'

'Me too Artie!' Alfred butted in.

"Alfred F. Jones, did you leave your friend upstairs all by himself?" Matthew chided.

Realisation crossed Alfred's slightly chubby face.

"Whoops, sorry Mattie!" He turned to face Arthur full on, knowing well that he wouldn't understand if he didn't. "Hey Artie, you've got to meet Kiku!"

The small American raced up the stairs.

'Kids.' Arthur shook his head, and the two laughed.

'_Just wait until tomorrow at school. You're going to get it then.'_

The teen gulped slightly at the voice in his head.

'You might as well stay for tea.' Matthew signed. 'It's almost five.'

'I'll text Mary.' The Brit brought out his phone from his pocket.

'**5 Missed calls from 'The Frog'.'**

He ignored those and instead went to create a new message. The boy quickly texted his sister and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

He surely didn't care that much. In fact, those calls were probably saying how much of a bloody idiot he was and that he would get it at school tomorrow.

He sighed as Alfred and his friend ran into the room.

It was going to be a long night.

_**~oOo~**_

"Come on Arthur, pick up." Francis muttered as he tried calling the Brit for the sixth time this evening. As with the other five times, there was no answer.

"Merde." The Frenchman cursed.

He really hoped that Arthur was alright.

He really didn't know why though. Probably because Arthur was his friend and friends looked out for each other. If it was Gil or Toni that this had happened to, he would probably be as worried as he was now.

So why was he pacing his bedroom floor, checking his phone ever five seconds to see if there was a new text?

Unbeknownst to Francis, his mother was watching from the doorway. She sighed happily to herself as she turned away to go make dinner.

"Ahh, to be so young and in love." She whispered. "I wonder who the lucky girl is."

The Frenchman flopped onto his bed and exhaled dramatically.

"Please reply soon Arthur. I can't go another minute without knowing you're alright. Please come back. You have to come back.

I love you."

**A/N: I once again apologise. I've never written romance before, so I'm sorry if this is a sorry excuse for it. If you think that I'm going too fast, or have any other problems with my writing, please tell me!**

**I eat reviews! Please feed me!**

**Until next time!**

**Extra: When I wrote that A/N, I thought of that one line that Spain says in HetaOni; 'what is this, a world zoo? Do not touch or feed the nations?' and I laughed.**

**Edit: Because I'm an idiot, I put that Arthur heard Alfred and his friend come down the stairs… I've changed that now. Thanks to one reviewer for telling me!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: hello yes i update**

**disclaimer: totally own**

**lol i lie**

"the speaking"

'the signing'

'_the thoughts'_

'_**text written on the screen'**_

Chapter 9

Arthur arrived back at his 'house' at around ten. He ran up the many flights of stairs, not caring how out of breath he was, or how much his body protested.

Finally on the correct floor, the Brit unlocked the door as fast as possible and burst into the flat.

"Alright," He yelled, "Which one of you wankers stole me bloody memory stick!"

None of his family turned around. Well, I lie. His mother twisted her head from where she was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. She looked like a grotesque, make-up wearing owl; head twisted almost one hundred and eighty degrees.

"Don't… like… elders!" She hissed.

"Mother, you wouldn't happen to know why my memory stick went? I put it I my bag last night, and when I went to hand it in, it was gone." His mother stared back, green eyes wide. "What about you Liam? Or Dylan? Allistor, how about you? Father, have you seen my memory stick?"

This time, it was his father that turned around. "Shut yer trap boy. I haven't seen yer bloody stick."

Arthur glanced at his mother. When one of your senses has gone, the others become more sensitive to make up for the fact that one has gone. With his hearing lost, his sight, smell, touch and taste had become better. He saw the brief flash of guilt that crossed her face, before it was gone, lost under a sea of make-up. The teen sent her a look, a look that said 'i-know-that-you-took-it-so-tell-me-where-it-is'.

His mother sighed and looked pointedly at the washing machine before flouncing past him and out of the door. As soon as she had left, Arthur ran to the machine (by now his family had gone back to watching whatever crappy TV show was on) and opened the big circular bit. The memory stick wasn't there. He tried the part where you put the soap powder, and there, in the centre of the drawer, was his super rad union jack memory stick.

Wow. His mother sure was in a nice mood today.

Moving back into the bedroom, Arthur pulled out his phone and texted Francis.

'_**I found it.'**_

_**~oOo~**_

The Frenchman in question had long since fallen asleep, phone clutched in his hand. He was awoken suddenly when a sound emanated from the apple device.

'What does the fox say? DING DING A LING A LING A LING DING DING A DING A LING'

Francis shot up, phone falling from his grasp and clattering to the floor. He quickly retrieved the mobile and checked the screen. There upon the screen, encased in a little green bubble, were the words he had been waiting for.

'_**Arthur: I found it.'**_

He fell to his knees, throwing his hands in the air. Then he did a little victory dance. Finally, when Francis had calmed down, he smoothly unlocked the phone and typed a reply.

'_**That's great **____** I was worried about you! Why didn't you call me back?'**_

His finger hovered over the send button. Should he send it? Was he sounding too needy, too desperate?

'_Shut up and send it already!'_

Before he could protest, his brain had already sent the command to press the button to his fingers. His manicured nail tapped the screen and the whizzing noise signalled that the message had indeed been sent.

The Frenchman sat down on his bed, staring at the screen. He waited. And waited. And just to be different, he waited.

Eventually, the screen flashed again, and the familiar words rang throughout the room.

'What does the fox say?'

"The fox says please shut up." He muttered to the phone, as he typed a reply to Arthur's message.

'_**I only just checked my phone now. Sorry about that.'**_

'_**That's alright cher. I was just a bit worried, that's all.'**_

Send.

_**~oOo~**_

Arthur stared at the screen of his old nokia. He'd had the phone for about five years, ever since he started 'big school'. He thought it was such a big deal, having his own phone when his family couldn't afford very much. But when he got to school, and everyone else had iPhones or Blackberry's or really cool sliding phones, and he was stuck with that stupid old brick, he realised how wrong he was.

He was so naïve back then. So innocent.

But I'm getting off track. Arthur stared at the screen of his old nokia. There, emblazoned on the screen, were words.

'_**That's great **____** I was worried about you! Why didn't you call me back?'**_

Did he really mean it? Did Francis actually care?

'_He's just saying that. He doesn't actually mean it. Tomorrow, you're in for a bashing for sure bro.'_

'_Ignore that voice Arthur. Listen to me, the good fairy. Yes, Francis cares about you. He cares about you a lot more than you think.'_

'_Shut the fuck up. Don't listen to that bitch. Her name isn't even the good fairy, it's Rose, and her mother's an alcoholic and this is how she deals with it, by sending grammatically correct messages to strangers inside their heads.'_

'_Can you please be quiet Dave? I'm trying to make this guy feel like someone actually cares which __**he does by the way Arthur!**__'_

'_Bitch, please be quiet. Now Artie, listen here, because I aint gonna say this twice. Also, I gotta go bust some sweet tunes on my disks. But anyway, Rose is wrong, and I'm right. Francis doesn't give two shits about you. Tomorrow at school you're gonna get beaten. Strider out.'_

'_Get back here Dave! Oh wait, Arthur, Francis does care. Dave's an idiot.'_

While his mind was having a messed up internal monologue that totally wasn't influenced by a certain web comic that the author has been reading lately, a lot of time had passed. Around five minutes actually. Before this so called 'Dave' could come and tell him not to do so, Arthur sent a reply.

'_**I only just checked my phone now. Sorry about that.'**_

Rose seemed a lot nicer than Dave. She also used proper grammar and was polite, which worked wonders in making Arthur trust her.

However, a little voice niggled at the back of his mind, that maybe Francis didn't care Actually, that voice was about half and half. Rose and Dave seemed to have been collecting followers.

His phone beeped.

'_**That's alright cher. I was just a bit worried, that's all.'**_

Cher? Wasn't that an affectionate term in French?

Then again, Arthur had never been much good at French, even when he had been taking it. And besides, Francis called _everyone _cher.

Again with the being worried thing. Arthur was really starting to side with Rose on this one. Maybe Francis _did _care.

'_Yes, that's it Arthur! You've got it! See Strider, I told you! And I'm always right.'_

'_Bitch'_

'_Jerk.'_

That's enough about Rose and Dave for now. Arthur quickly replied, before the two weird mind things could come and convince him otherwise.

'_**I'll bring it in tomorrow. I'm gonna go to bed now. Goodnight.'**_

He was met almost instantly with a reply.

'_**Bonne nuit ;)'**_

As he sunk into the sheets, Arthur could only wonder about what would happen tomorrow.

'_I hate you Lalonde.'_

'_The feeling's mutual Strider.'_

'_Come on guys, I thought we were friends!'_

'_Yeah, Jade's right! Let's stop arguing and go have some cake (as long as it's not Betty Crocker. Damn I hate that bitch.)_

'_Hmm… I agree with John. Let's eat cake.'_

'_Agreed.'_

**A/N: Hey guys! Proper authors note here. **

**I hope you liked this chapter! It's written in a bit of a rush, so I'm sorry if it's bad. Also, can anyone guess the web comic I've been reading lately and has kind of taken over my life?**

**I'm sorry guys, there's gonna be no update next Monday. It's my fifteenth birthday next week, so I'm going out with my family for tea **** also, I'll be trying out my presents :D**

**Review please? They make me super happy!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Bonjour**

**I'm sorry that its been a while since the last update. I've been super busy all week, what with a lot of homework and my birthday. Speaking of birthday... I got a laptop! It'll make updating much easier, except for the fact it doesn't have microsoft word... but it has another word like thing, so I hope it works.**

**Also, how did you all guess that I've been reading Homestuck? **

**Thank you for all the lovely reviews! It really makes my day when I see all the positive feedback this gets!**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned, but sadly I'm not that awesome.**

"Speaking"

'Signing'

_'Thoughts'_

_**'Text on a screen.'**_

**I think y'all know by now that... sentences... like... this... mean that poor Artie isn't getting everything.**

Chapter 10

The next day, they didn't have Chemistry. But they did have history, which Francis had never noticed until last week.

Maybe it was because he actually noticed Arthur.

Anyway, Gilbert and Antonio were already sitting at the back when Francis entered. They waved frantically and patted his usual seat, which today was thankfully not taken by Lovino. The Frenchman was about to go and sit down when he saw Arthur in the front seat, scribbling in his notebook.

He paused.

Should he sit with Arthur, his new friend who he was almost certain that he liked more than just a friend? Or should he go with his old friends, his best buds who he had started many pranks with in his time?

This thought process took around a second, and eventually Francis decided on the latter. He saw Arthur almost every day, and sat next to him in one lesson. He decided that he could wait a little longer. And besides, the Brit seemed to be ignoring him anyway.

He slid into the seat between Antonio and Gilbert. The albino turned to him, as did the Spaniard.

"So...?" Gilbert asked, leaning back on his chair. "You totally paused up there."

"I did not." Francis protested.

"You did, amigo." Antonio said.

"You're so in luuuurrrrvvveeee." The albino

"How did you get that I was in love from the fact that I paused before coming to sit with you?"

"It's not just that." Gilbert started.

"You keep on talking about him. More than you talk about us." the Spaniard stated.

"Even more than you talk about your hair. This guy's got to be something special." The 'Prussian' interrupted.

"Secondly," Antonio continued, "you were seriously worried about him that day he wasn't at school. You even made us go to his house."

"And yesterday when he broke down you looked pretty scared. It was like he was dying."

"Also last night you called us and said 'I think I'm in love with Arthur.'."

He had forgotten about that.

Francis slumped in his chair. "It's true!" He moaned. "I'm in love."

"Now don't worry Franny." Gilbert patted his back. "Now all ya gotta do is ask him out."

"Easier said than done there Gil."

"No amigo, think of the benefits! What if he says yes? _What if he likes you back?_"

'_What if he doesn't though. Then what?'_

"You have to ask Arthur out so awesomely that he'll _have_ to say yes!" Gilbert shouted. A few people turned around and started to mutter to each other. Miraculously, at the front of the classroom, Arthur himself didn't seem to hear.

"Gilbert." Francis hissed. "Could you quiet down a bit? You're ruining my reputation."

"Sorry." The Prussian muttered sheepishly. "But anyway, you've still gotta ask him out in a super awesome way."

"I agree." Antonio nodded. "You have to be very romantic. Guys dig romantic things."

"Isn't that normally girls?"

The Spaniard shrugged. "Guys too."

"Okkkayyy." Francis muttered.

"But you have to ask him out!" Antonio swung his arm around Francis' shoulder.

"And luckily you've got us to help you do so!"

Francis sighed. It was going to be a long lesson.

_**~oOo~**_

Arthur was reading in the library when his phone vibrated. He swung it out of his blazer pocket with one hand and turned the page with the other.

Green eyes scanned the screen.

_**'Meet me on the field after school? x**_

He wasn't familiar with text speak, so he had no idea what the fuck the little letter x meant. Whatever, it's not like it mattered. Francis wanted to meet him on the field after school. It was probably to see if he had the memory stick or not. Arthur had brought it with him today, just in case something happened to it at home. He was glad he did.

_'You are seriously stupid. He wants to bash your head in.'_

_'Shut up Dave. I bet he's going to ask you out!'_

Arthur was more inclined to go with Dave on this one.

But no more weird voices in Arthur's head. That joke exhausted itself a _long _time ago. Anyway, the Brit checked the time on his phone before stuffing it into his pocket. The time read 3:30. Seeing school ended at four, he only had half an hour until he had to meet the Frenchman.

Might as well try to finish a chapter or two.

_**~oOo~**_

The bell rang and Arthur made his way out of the school. He walked the ground that was just beginning to harden slightly. Golden brown leaves fell from trees. Summer was turning into autumn. Good. He liked autumn a lot more than summer. Summer was too hot.

There, on the field, was Francis. He had his school bag slung over his shoulder and a guitar in his hands, which was weird because Arthur had never ever seen him play the guitar before. Hell, there hadn't even been a guitar in his room when he was over there. No sign of any guitar anywhere.

Weird.

When Arthur reached him, Francis smiled a grin so perfect it made his heart flutter slightly.

_'Hahahahahaha my heart would never flutter. No, totally didn't just happen.'_

Francis beamed at him. "Bonjour."

"Good afternoon." Arthur nodded. "I assume this is about the memory stick. I'll have you know I have it right-"

"This isn't about the memory stick." Francis interrupted.

"Then what's it about?"

"Arthur, I have something very important to ask you. Promise me you won't interrupt me while I'm doing so."

"I promise." The Brit said, confusion entering his voice.

"Right." Francis took a deep breath. "Here we go."

_'Calm, Francis, Calm. Deep breaths. You can do this. Just like we practised. You only learnt the song and how to play Antonio's guitar today, but you can do this. It'll be fine. Everything is going to be-_

_SHUT UP AND PLAY THE GOSH DIDDLY DARN GUITAR ALREADY!'_

The Frenchman poised his fingers over the guitar and began to play.

The notes were relatively simple. Well, according to Antonio they were. To Francis, who had never played a guitar before today, these notes were as hard as fuck.

Francis didn't look at Arthur as he played, strumming the guitar frantically. He just hoped the notes were right. They _sounded_ right, but he really couldn't be sure.

Why was he singing this again? He didn't even know what an OTP was. Gilbert said it would 'catch him like a fish' and that Arthur 'liked all this shit' but he really didn't know. The more he thought about it, he didn't know that much about Arthur at all.

"Will you be the John to my Sherlock? Will you be the Cas to my Dean? I'll be Kirk and you can be Spock. And we'll beat all the other tag teams."

The hell if he knew what any of this shit meant.

_**~oOo~**_

Arthur was wondering what Francis was doing with a guitar and what he was saying meant when the Frenchman put his fingers onto the guitar and began to play.

His technique was awful. He wasn't holding the instrument properly and his fingers looked like they were clutching the fingerboard as if it was life or death. If Arthur had to guess, he would say that Francis had never played a guitar before.

But Francis, the guy that he _totally didn't like_, was playing the guitar, _for him. _

Then the Frenchman began to sing

His mouth opened and formed words. Words that Arthur couldn't hear. Words that he would never hear.

Tears pooled in green eyes. Francis was playing the guitar for him. Francis was singing for him. _And he couldn't hear any of it._

Francis finished the song with a final strum. He looked up.

"So Arthur, what do you say? Will you go out with me?"

The Brit was standing there, tears forming in his beautiful green eyes. Then, all of a sudden, he fell to the floor crying.

Francis rushed forward, pulling Arthur into a hug.

"What's wrong?" He asked, staring into Arthur's eyes. "Did you not like it?"

"I... I didn't hear it..."

"What was that? You didn't hear it?"

"No! I didn't hear it!"

"Do you want me to sing it again?" Francis queried. He could probably sing it again.

"No! I don't want you to sing it again! I won't hear you! I've never heard your voice before, and I never will!" He was yelling now. Thank God most people had gone home, although Francis knew for a fact that Gilbert and Antonio were hiding behind a nearby tree.

"Why?" He wondered.

"Do I need to spell it out to you?" Arthur shouted, tears streaming down his face. "I'm deaf!"

**A/N: Annnddddd... end it there.**

**Cliffhanger for you guys! I hope this chapter makes up for the lack of updates!**

**Please review? It would make me super happy! Well, I already am super happy because I got a Castiel coat at the weekend, but this would make me ever happier! Pretty please?**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the late update guys! I've been super busy with homework and stuff, and I was down in Manchester yesterday seeing a play that I'm doing for GCSE and I didn't get back until late and I just-**

**Okay, I'll stop now.**

**Wow... just... wow! I never expected you all to love this story so much! Thank you so much for all your kind reviews! It really means a lot to me!**

**The song last chapter was NOT written by me! It was written and sung by the-doctors-sexiest-companion on tumblr, and you should all go check her out!**

**Disclaimer: I wish I wish with all my heart that I could own hetalia! [checks legal documents] no... still don't own...**

"Speaking."

'Signing'

_'Thoughts.'_

**Also, I think you should know by now that sentences... like... this... mean that Arthur isn't getting everything**

Chapter 11

"Deaf...?" Francis wondered. Then it all clicked.

Why he needed subtitles. Why he sometimes missed out on details. Why Arthur sometimes zoned out. Why the Brit didn't concentrate in class then just got handed the notes afterwards.

_'He was deaf? And he didn't tell me?'_

Francis felt betrayed. He would have thought that by now the two of them had become good enough friends for him to know that Arthur was _fucking deaf._

"Why... why didn't you tell me?" He asked. The Brit didn't reply, just carried on sobbing, tears streaming from his green eyes.

All rational thoughts vanished from Francis' mind. He grabbed Arthur by the shoulders and started shaking him.

"Why didn't you tell me!?" He repeated, much angrier this time.

"I can't hear you!" Arthur yelled, squirming in his grasp.

"Why. Did. You. Not. Tell. Me!" The Frenchman spoke slowly, enunciating every word.

The Brit stared blankly at him for a few seconds.

"Answer me!" He cried, shaking him again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Francis spotted Antonio and Gilbert running over. He ignored them and focused on the green eyed teen.

"Because if I told you then you wouldn't treat me the same!" Arthur yelled, voice rising to a high pitched scream. "I'd be the stupid deaf boy! You wouldn't look at me the same! I just wanted to be treated like everyone else! I just wanted to be_ normal_!"

The next thing he knew, Francis was being pulled off the Brit. He couldn't find the energy to struggle, he couldn't find the energy to do anything. Arthur himself had broken down in tears and was emitting a weird moaning sound.

Gilbert was shouting at him, Antonio was trying to calm him down. It was all too much.

Slowly but surely, Francis rose from where Gilbert was restraining him. He pulled away from the Albino's grip and ran. He ran out of the field and away down the street.

He was aware of Gilbert chasing after him, but still he did not stop.

He needed to be alone.

_**~oOo~**_

Everything was blurry.

He couldn't focus.

It was all too much.

He knew.

He knew.

He'd never be looked at the same again.

It was nice while it lasted.

_'What did I tell you?'_

He should have listened to the voices in his head.

He was being gripped and shaken.

He was aware of Francis in his face, asking him why he didn't tell him.

Then he was screaming.

It was all coming out. All his pent up emotions, every last one since he was twelve years old, it was all being let out.

Then Francis was being pulled away, and in a messed up way he didn't want him to let go. He craved the touch, he craved physical contact.

He needed it.

He needed Francis.

It was all too much.

The darkness welcomed him as he fell into it.

_'I love you.'_

_**~oOo~**_

His mother was knocking on his door, but he didn't so much as look up.

He needed to think.

Right. Calm. Think.

_'Lets sort all the facts into a list.'_

A list. He could do that.

Arthur was deaf

He didn't tell him

This explained a lot of the puzzling things about Arthur

He still didn't know whether Arthur liked him that way or not

_'That's good! Now, what do you love about Arthur?'_

What did he like about him?

He liked his blond hair that seriously needed a cut and looked like straw but felt like silk and suited him the way it was.

He liked the way he stuck out his tongue when he was concentrating.

He liked the way his school uniform was always neat and tidy, no matter what he had been doing.

He loved the way his forest green eyes shone with happiness.

He loved his huge caterpillar eyebrows.

'_Does any of that have to do with Arthur being deaf?'_

Does it?

No.

Because Arthur only told him half an hour ago.

_'So? What's the problem?'_

The problem is that he didn't tell him.

He thought that Arthur had trusted him enough. This was a big fucking secret.

Why didn't he tell him?

_'He told you why.'_

He just wanted to be normal.

_'Did you fall in love with him because he was deaf? No, you fell in love with him for him. Arthur being deaf has nothing to do whether you love him or not. It doesn't even matter. You fell in love with **Arthur**.'_

Oh.

_'You done fucked up.'_

Francis leapt to his feet. He flung open the door, almost causing his mother to fall into his room. Ignoring this fact, he ran down the stairs three at a time and opened the door so fast it almost fell off its hinges.

He needed to find Arthur.

Now.

He'd caused enough damage already.

He needed to fix what he'd done.

Before it was too late.

He almost crashed into Gilbert running the other way.

"Francis!" The albino exclaimed, throwing his arms around the Frenchman. "What happened back there dude?" He asked once they'd broken apart. "One second everything was going perfect, then he started crying and you started shouting and Toni and I came over then you ran away and I ran after you and I don't know what Antonio did but knowing him he ran after you too and left Arthur all alone and I called Birdie but he didn't pick up and I checked his house but his mum said he wasn't in and I was running to yours and now I've found you and here we are and I was worried!"

"I screwed, up that's what." Francis sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"So are we going to find Arthur or what?" Gilbert smirked.

"Oui." The Frenchman agreed. "I think we should check his house first. If he's not there, we'll look in the surrounding area."

The albino nodded. The two set off running in the general direction of Arthur's house.

_**~oOo~**_

Arthur wasn't in his flat.

He wasn't in the liquor store.

He wasn't in the run down park near his apartment block.

He wasn't anywhere.

"Now what?" Gilbert asked, sitting down on a bench. He popped a stick of chewing gum in his mouth and frantically chewed it.

"I don't know." Francis said truthfully. Just then, Antonio came strolling up.

"Hey guys!" He called, flopping down on the bench next to Gilbert.

"Toni! Where's Arthur?" The Frenchman put his face so it was right in front of Antonio's. The Spaniard just smiled.

"Oh, he fainted for a little bit! I got a bit worried, but then he woke up. As soon as he saw me, he gasped and scooted away! I tried to get him to calm down, but he ran away. I tried following him but he was too fast. Then I saw you guys so I came over here!"

As soon as Antonio had finished, Francis was running back towards the apartment building again.

_'I'll find you Arthur. Just you wait.'_

**A/N: That took a surprising amount of time to get started.**

**I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a review! It makes me super happy every time I see one!**

**Also, just so you know, I have a tumblr! I don't often post things about my fanfiction, but I sometimes post some that I don't post on ! I'd love to follow some of the people who like this story, so you can message me if you want! (It might also pester me into not updating late) My url is misha-collins-ships-destiel if you're interested!**

**See you next water time!**


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